I decided I was going to try to blog every day in November. Normally, once the evenings start getting longer and darker, I tend to stitch more--so I figured I'd have something to say.
Hasn't happened so far.
I thought, well, I could write about my day--and then realized just how deadly dull and boring my non-stitching life is.
Today . . .
I went to work. Currently, the IT people are migrating a system that I use to a larger server which is supposed to have a larger capacity (we're overtaxing the one we're on) and increased speed. They tell me that I can continue to use the system during the migration. Apparently they are migrating via The Planet Originally Known as Pluto, since we are about three weeks behind the original schedule.
This means that I spent a ridiculous amount of time watching a little whirly thing whirl while it tried to connect me to the system, then I had to watch it whirl some more while it tried to do what I wanted it to do, and then I got a blank screen. About every fourth attempt, I got where I needed to be and was able to do what I needed to do. That makes for a very long day.
In the middle of it, I spilled yogurt down the front of my work sweater. Which I had just washed. So it has to be washed again.
At long last, I was able to come home. Dearly Beloved met me at the door with the news that he had no shirts ironed. Would I please iron if he cooked dinner?
Ironing is on my list of things I like to do about as much as I enjoy a dental procedure. However, I can whip through a shirt in ten minutes or less. Dearly Beloved takes at least an hour per shirt (I think he does it on purpose) and inevitably scorches something. It's easier to do it myself than it is to endure the pain of watching him. Besides, he does a really good job on London broil, much better than I--so it was a good trade-off.
All of that meant that the start of the evening was delayed. I decided to go ahead and take my shower since I needed to wash my hair and it takes awhile to dry. (If I blow dry it with the amount of static in the air, I look more like a deranged dandelion than usual.) I showered, got out of the shower . . .and realized that I had not rinsed the conditioner out. Senile, much? Back into the shower.
Finally got out, realized that my hands were the general consistency of sand paper, and put the heavy duty hand cream on them so I could work with silk. However, the paradox of this situation is that it takes a loooong time for the heavy duty hand cream to sink in enough to be able to stitch. So I may get to stitch for about fifteen minutes before I go to bed.
So I think I'm going to sit here, watching the hand cream sink in. I think I may turn on the TV and drool over Mark Harmon, after I throw my work sweater in the washer, that is. Just one exciting moment after another . . .